Omega (Evan's Alphas Book 1)

by D. J. Heart

  Omega

  By D.J. Heart

  2015 Copyright © by D.J. Heart

  Cover by D.J. Heart

  Editing by Red Pen Proofreads

  Part One: Owned

  It takes Evan’s stomach a fraction of a second to catch up with the elevator, the pull on his gut making him feel funny. He’s never been in an elevator before, so he’s not sure if it’s a normal reaction, but his transfer guardian doesn’t seem concerned.

  It’s weird, he thinks, that he would notice the elevator’s effect on his stomach considering how nervous he is. Ever since he was told that he’d been matched with an alpha.

  Except, it’s not an alpha. It’s two alphas. Two alphas in their prime, together, who have selected Evan to be their submissive third. They hadn’t specified the submissive part, but Evan is an omega. It’s assumed. Nature intended him to yield, and society sees no reason to defy nature on this point—no matter how much Evan wishes they would.

  Evan can’t remember ever not being an omega. He knows that there was a time in his past, a time before he can remember, when he lived with his beta parents, but those memories are lost to him. He wonders if his parents fought when the guardians came to take him away, or if they were relieved.

  “Don’t be nervous, sweetie,” his transfer guardian says. She’s a pretty beta with short brown hair, combed back over her ears in a no-nonsense style. She instinctively reaches out to give him a comforting pat on the arm, but then pulls her hand away at the last minute. Alphas don’t like people touching their things. It’s a startling reminder of what’s waiting for him, and the life he’s about to step into.

  “I’m not.” Evan puts on a brave face, pretending that his hands aren’t shaking. That he isn’t feeling light headed. He tries to smile, looking her in the eye, “Really.” He puts his hands in his pockets, the insides of his palms clammy. He’s never been this nervous before.

  She smiles at him, but it’s a sad smile. She knows as well as he does that his odds aren’t good. That an established alpha pair has little need of an omega except for one thing.

  Evan adjusts his shirt, stroking the smooth fabric down over his chest. The suit is new and extravagant, paid for by the guardianship center. It fits him like a glove, showing off his trim waist and tight rear, uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

  He’s on display, and he wished he could have worn his comfy sweats and a t-shirt instead. The teachers have warned him, however, that he might be clothed differently by his alphas. Be fitted with clothes that show him off and make them want. They might take his comfort into account if they’re considerate, but most alphas aren’t. They don’t have to be. Evan has seen omegas before, on class excursions; pretty little things with vacant eyes in silly costumes, trotting behind their big alphas. He’s often wondered if that will be him, or if he’ll end up one of those omegas who never leaves the house. Like a pet who can’t be trusted to go outside.

  He curls his fingers into tight fists, pushing them deeper into his pockets. The elevator pings, and the doors open. They step into a wide hallway; marble floors polished and gleaming, the entire wall on his left side occupied by floor to ceiling windows with a stunning view of the city. The space is huge and light, opulent, and there’s just a single door. The alphas have the whole floor to themselves, and from what Evan has gathered, this means that they are very, very rich.

  “This is us,” the transfer guardian says cheerfully; smile just a little too bright. She looks nervous, pulling at her blouse as she walks forward. Evan follows, dragging his feet just a little, and watches as she comes to a stop in front of the door. There’s no bell, and just as the transfer guardian reaches out her hand to knock, it opens.

  The scent of alpha, musky and potent, hits Evan’s nose, and he can’t help but breathe in deeply. It’s an intoxicating scent, and one he is completely unprepared for. He closes his eyes the second it hits, rooted to the spot as his olfactory senses are overloaded with the heady scent of a virile young alpha.

  Alphas smell good to omegas, they had said at the center. Evan thinks that good is not the word for it. Intoxicating, delicious, wonderful. He feels drunk on his new alphas’ scent, and he hasn’t even seen them yet.

  Evan is curious, wanting—needing—to see what could possibly smell this good, opening his eyes slowly and taking his first look at his new alphas. Or one of them, he amends, realizing that there is only a single alpha in the doorway.

  He’s beautiful. Tall and wide, muscles rolling under his skin as he shifts forwards, staring at Evan with a fascinated expression. The alpha is also young. Not as young as Evan, legally an adult for just two days, but younger than he’d been taught to expect.

  Alphas spend the first decade or two of their adult lives building a life, preparing to take care of an omega and a family. This alpha can’t be out of his twenties, floppy blond hair hanging messily around his sculpted face, impressive body dressed in sweatpants and a loose, barely there tank top.

  Nobody says a word, the guardian standing aside and letting Evan and the strange alpha observe each other. It’s bizarre, the idea that this is his alpha. That he’ll be knotted, bred and owned by this man.

  “I like your suit,” the alpha finally says, smiling down at Evan, standing just inches away. Evan wonders when the alpha had stepped so close. He has to crane his neck to see his face. The heat of the alpha’s body seeps into his skin, making his insides feel tingly. The alpha’s tank top is flimsy, and as he moves it billows from side to side, exposing the alpha’s nipples and rock solid pecs.

  “Thank you,” Evan replies politely, looking down with a blush. The alpha is sweaty and breathing hard, as though Evan and his transfer guardian have interrupted his workout. Evan wonders if he should return the compliment, forgetting—in the haze of alpha pheromones, musk, and sweat—what the appropriate response to a compliment is. The alpha is smiling at him, hand reaching up to touch his shoulder, squeezing down gently. The touch sends a shiver down Evan’s spine, breath hitching as he leans into the alpha’s touch. The hand on his shoulder is warm even through his suit, large fingers gripping firmly. The touch is doing strange things to him, igniting a fire in his belly that quickly spreads to his groin and hole, slick wetting the back of his pants as his body prepares to be mounted.

  “Do I need to sign anything?” the alpha asks, turning towards Evan’s transfer guardian, thumb rubbing the space under Evan’s clavicle in lazy little circles. Evan feels overwhelmed and hot, but he forces himself to listen. His ass clenches down on nothing, and his cock is hard and eager. He needs the alpha to pull him in, cover him with his scent, and fill him up with his potent seed. Needs to be claimed.

  Evan forces himself to focus. His instincts might be telling him to let go, to trust and submit, but instincts can lie. They can be manipulated. His body can be his own worst enemy, and until he knows more, he needs to pay attention.

  “Just sign here that you’ve taken custody, Mr. Brand.”

  Evan’s new alpha, last name Brand, signs his name on the transfer guardian’s phone. The young beta thanks him and does not say goodbye to Evan as she turns to leave. Evan belongs to an alpha now. It would be inappropriate for her to speak to him.

  “Come here,” Brand says, suddenly pulling Evan in for a hug. It’s what he’s wanted—what he’s been waiting for—and it feels amazing. The alpha is impossibly big, muscles hard and strong, arms wrapping around Evan and holding him tight.

  Evan buries his face under the alpha’s tank top, pushing his nose into the crevice between the alpha’s powerful pecs. It’s hot and sticky with sweat, alpha pheromones pungent and delicious. It feels right in a way nothing has ever felt right before.

  “Oh, you are just pe
rfect,” Brand coos at him, gripping his neck and rubbing his back. The touches are forceful, pushing him into Brand’s body, crushing his nose and almost smothering him. The hand on his back holds him tight, and Evan can feel his body relax and let itself be supported entirely by the alpha’s strength.

  “Let’s go inside, I’m not allowed to knot you until Peter gets here, so we might as well get to know each other.”

  Evan tries to process what the alpha is saying, but all he knows is that the alpha’s arm is suddenly around his waist, lifting him up and through the door, into the apartment.

  Evan rests his head on the alpha’s shoulder and blearily opens his eyes, getting a vague impression of wide-open spaces, shiny wooden floors, and tall ceilings. Brand drops him gently down into a plush chair, stepping back and walking away.

  The loss of contact is devastating. Evan jumps to his feet, pressing himself up against the retreating alpha before he knows what he’s doing. He clings, arms circling Brand’s wide waist as he buries his face in the man’s sweat slicked skin.

  “Fuck!” Brand clutches him to his chest, burying his nose in Evan’s hair and pulling in a deep breath, cock tenting his sweatpants and pushing into Evan’s soft stomach.

  Evan wants. He wants the hard rod, the thick knot, stretching him open and claiming him. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. He wants to be owned, and though it terrifies him, his body’s inevitable and total betrayal, in this moment he doesn’t mind.

  “Fuck!” Brand snarls again, pushing Evan away with a rough shove, then gently guides him back into the chair. Evan sits, Brand’s hands gripping his upper arms tight, the alpha’s huge package positioned right in front of his face, so close that Evan can lean his head forward and…

  “No!” The alpha jumps back, the brief touch of his cock on Evan’s lips—even through the sinfully soft material of his sweats—like he’s been burned.

  “Stay!” the alpha commands, holding up a hand when Evan makes to get up. Evan sits back, obedient to the alpha whose knot he longs for. He can be good. He’ll show the alpha.

  “Holy fucking hell,” the alpha mutters, walking back and out of the room. The further away he gets, the clearer Evan’s mind becomes. He blushes in shame, feeling mortified.

  He’d made the alpha run away. He’d been so brazen the alpha probably thought he was some kind of slut. That he’d been had.

  Evan wonders if he’ll be sent back to the center. Would they even take him? Evan knows that not all omegas stay with their alphas. That they are sometimes ‘given away’ to brothels or alphas who shoot pornographic films. He knows that omegas that end up in those places don’t last very long. That belonging to an alpha that wants him, that is attached to him, is a million times better than being a commodity. Something to fuck and throw away.

  “Hey, hey!” the alpha rushes over to him, having re-entered the room. He’s carrying two bottles of water and a little blue flask. He crouches down, handsome face etched with distress, and asks worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

  Evan buries his head in shame, tears and snot making him feel childish and stupid. “I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, wondering what’s going to happen now that he’s revealed what a slut he is. How dirty and needy.

  “Hey, you’ve never met an alpha before, right? It’s no surprise that you got a little overwhelmed.” Brand speaks gently, one hand rubbing Evan’s arm, the touch once again clouding Evan's mind, need filling his body.

  There’s something wet on his upper lip, Brand wiping the space under his nose with his thumb. Evan doesn’t know what the alpha is doing, but he doesn’t even think of objecting. It feels good, but there are other places he wants that finger. Where he wants Brand to touch him. The muscular alpha cradles his jaw, the fleshy pad of his thumb caressing Evan’s upper lip and the skin under his nose. When Brand places his thumb over the tip of the blue bottle, tipping it and wetting his thumb before returning it to Evan’s nose, he realizes what’s going on.

  It’s scent neutralizer. A little dab can prevent an alpha or omega from being affected by pheromones for a few hours, preventing them from going into heat or rut. It’s expensive, and at the center he’d been told that most alphas could not afford to use it, or if they did, would reserve it for themselves.

  “Better?” Brand asks, the burning need slowly abating from Evan’s body. He nods, relieved. His mind is already feeling clearer, but that also means that there’s nothing to compete with the mortification he’s feeling. He bows his head, not able to look his alpha in the eye. Not that he’s supposed to, anyway.

  “Good. Drink this.” Brand hands him a water bottle, the cap already twisted off, “You’ll feel better when you’ve had a drink.”

  Evan drinks deeply, watching as the alpha steps back and sits down on the sofa across from him. He doesn’t seem concerned that he’s getting sweat all over the leather, his big body slouching down, one hand coming to rest on his bulge, trying to re-position his cock. The movement refocuses Evan’s attention on the bulge, mouthwatering despite himself. His hole is getting wetter, despite the scent neutralizer, and he hopes Brand won’t mind the wet stain on the seat of the chair. Unlike the couch, the chair is fabric, and heat slick is notoriously difficult to clean.

  “They warned me that you would be horny, but I didn't really believe it.” Brand laughs, Evan’s head falling further with shame. He bites down on his bottom lip and tries not to cry, the reprimand stinging.

  “No, no! Hey! That’s not a bad thing. You have no idea how much I like that you reacted like that. We just have to wait for Peter,” Brand rushes to reassure him, not rising from the couch, though Evan can feel the alpha’s eyes burning into his body. He feels like every inch of him is being cataloged and assessed, hoping despite himself that Brand finds him pleasing. When he looks up through his lashes, he sees Brand massaging his cock, stroking the hard length through his pants. Evan gasps at the sheer length and width of the bulge, Brand’s pleased rumble startling him and letting him know that his observation has not gone unnoticed.

  He looks up, slowly so that Brand can warn him if he’s out of line, studying the alpha in return. Brand doesn’t seem like he’s angry or upset, a smile that’s too warm to be a smirk curving his lip, implicitly allowing Evan’s behavior.

  Brand keeps staring at Evan, eyes hungry, nostrils flaring. Evan wonders if Brand has used the neutralizer on himself, or if his control is just this good.

  “Peter?” he asks, going back to his original plan. To gather information on his new alphas. If he’s going to make this work—avoiding the brothels and porn companies—he’s going to have to learn how to please them. How to be what they want. Letting his heat take over and riding it out is a dangerous indulgence he can’t allow, though now that he knows what heat feels like, he’s not so sure he’ll be able to do anything to avoid it. And this is only one alpha. What will it be like with two, when both are aroused and touching him?

  Evan won’t stand a chance.

  “Oh, sorry. I guess I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Chad Brand, and you’re Evan. We’re waiting for my husband, Peter Tank. He was going to stay home today, but there was some sort of crisis at the office, and he had to go in. He wanted to be here when you arrived.” Brand looks embarrassed, and Evan can’t help but think that the alpha looks adorable. He’s like a puppy—a muscular puppy, with wide shoulders and arms that bulge in all the right places—but still, a total puppy.

  Evan nods, not quite sure what to ask next. Chad is slouching back on the sofa, looking at Evan with such desire and heat that Evan can’t help but squirm. The scent neutralizer is doing its job, but it’s not enough to keep his ass from feeling empty. Chad is an impressive specimen.

  “What does he do?” Evan asks, Chad lifting his arm to scratch the back of his head before he answers. The move shows off his bicep and exposes the smooth pit under his arm. Evan wonders if Peter’s body is like Chad’s, all huge slabs of muscle, or if he’s sleek and fast. />
  “He’s the owner and CEO of Tank Security. It used to be just mercenary work, but now most of the business is in IT.”

  Evan doesn’t really understand, beyond Peter being the boss and the job involving soldiers and computers, but it’s a start.

  “What do you do?” he asks, feeling nervous about initiating conversation. Chad doesn’t seem to mind, though, staring hungrily at Evan between questions, looking like he’s barely restraining himself from leaping off the couch and launching himself at him.

  “I work for Tank Security. That’s how I met Peter. I used to be a soldier, but now I work for human resources.” Chad frowns briefly, adding, “Peter wanted me closer to home after we got married.”

  “Oh?” Evan adds, careful. He wonders why Chad would agree to something that makes him unhappy. From what Evan has learned, alphas do as they please.

  “Peter can be a little unreasonable, about some things,” Chad says, smiling self-consciously. “So a word of warning, don’t fight him. He’s bigger than both of us, and he fights dirty.”